


Well-Rounded Individuals

by Capella



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capella/pseuds/Capella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Konya's used to being a hated woman. It's been awhile since anyone flirted with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well-Rounded Individuals

The occupation of Corellia had changed many things, Adele Konya reflected, but it hadn’t changed the character of the Corellian people. They were still quick to anger, prideful, and stubborn. While her new Imperial allies were crushing pockets of resistance efficiently, they weren’t successful in eradicating it. Knock one pocket out, and two more sprang up to replace it and find revenge. The slaughter of Councilor Torvix should have crushed the resistance around the Black Hole area, but instead it had inspired more fierce fighting. Some of her men had left with Imperial shuttles, bound for parts of the galaxy where the fighting was less bitter. Sometimes she wanted to join them, but she was Corellian enough to want to see this through, even if it meant her death.

 

She’d expected it several times already, and yet it hadn’t come. First she’d thought the Imperial force come to destroy Torvix would execute her, but miraculously, they hadn’t. She was still topping the rebel forces’ list of targets, though, and she knew how personal Corellians could get about revenge. That’s why she was drinking at this tapcafe in the heart of Imperial-controlled territory, instead of at her old favorite (which was in an area reportedly in the hands of the resistance). No point in baring her neck to the nexu.

 

She felt a presence even before the shadow of the approaching individual crossed her. She looked up to see a woman coming towards her table. _Sith,_ was Konya’s immediate response. But when she stopped next to the table, the General reconsidered that first response. The light revealed that the newcomer was tall, with dark auburn hair and pale eyes, dressed in a shabby spacer’s jacket that seemed too small for the broad shoulders and muscled arms of the woman wearing it. She wasn’t wearing any weapons at all - _stupid on a planet where fighting could break out at any moment_ \- and looked like nothing more than any other spacer out for a drink. Still, Konya couldn’t shake her initial feeling that there was something more about this woman.

 

“May I buy you a drink?”

 

The stranger’s accent was perfect Kaas Imperial. Not an ordinary spacer after all, then, despite the attire. Interesting. Konya kept her expression guarded. “Who’s asking?”

 

“Just a woman looking for company.” As if sensing the general’s suspicious regard, the stranger held her hands away from her body, showing no weapon.

 

Konya should probably have felt more concerned that this stranger was someone here to harm her, but instead, all she felt was exhilaration. It had been a long time since anyone had dared speak to her like this, not when she was a high-ranking soldier, not as a prominent councilor, and not when she became in charge of the Imperial occupation effort. In fact, no one had been so bold since before she earned the scars on her face. It was refreshing enough that she decided it was worth the risk.

 

“Have a seat then. But I don’t take drinks when I don’t know the giver’s name,” she warned.

 

“My name is Valle,” the stranger said as she settled into a chair across from Konya, offering a small smile.

 

The general waved a hand at a nearby waitress, who hurried over. “Whiskey, neat. On her.”

 

“Brandy, please. Alderaanian if you have it,” the stranger added.

 

Konya studied the stranger. “Why are you here?”

 

Valle plucked at her sleeve, brushing away imaginary dust, before answering. “Define here. Corellia, or at this bar?”

 

“Let’s start with Corellia.”

 

“Information seeking. I’m here with a unit of the Reclamation Service. ”

 

“And why are you here, talking to me?” Konya found it hard to believe that a young Imperial officer - for that was what she was, even if she was in casual clothing - would just walk up and buy her a drink. It wasn’t possible that she didn’t know who was in charge of this sector - was it?

 

“Is this a drink, or an interrogation?” the other woman shot back.

 

_So she has some spine. Might be fun to play with._ “There are other tapcafes for spacers to have one-night flings, and the clientele there is certainly prettier. I’m curious as to why this one, and why me.”

 

“Who says I’m looking for a fling?” 

 

“There another reason to walk over to a strange woman offering a drink?”

 

“I can’t just want to talk to you?” 

 

Before replying, Konya took a moment to study the Imperial woman. Valle rested her head on her hand in a casual-seeming way, but the way she was poised in the chair gave Konya the impression that the other woman was tense as a spring. It didn't seem like the tenseness of an assassin poised to strike, but more of an animal ready to spook off at the slightest provocation. Valle was becoming frustratingly evasive in her answers, and yet the general still didn’t have a bad feeling about the other woman. It was a gut call to think that whatever her evasiveness was covering, it didn’t seem to be hostile intent. But she had Corellian luck and that kind of call usually worked out.

 

“Look, I’m not the kind of woman who gets offered drinks out of the blue every day,” Konya said after a long moment, leaning back in her chair. 

 

“A pretty woman like you? That’s a shame.”

 

Konya laughed. “Maybe it’s different on Kaas, but scarred women aren’t the most popular date around these parts. So you'll forgive me for assuming the worst of your intentions."

 

“Then the people who ignore you miss out. Scars show history. A person with scars is a person with stories to tell.” Valle put her hands on the table and looked like she was about to get up. “Look, if you don’t want to talk, then I’ll leave - and I’ll still pay for the drinks. But I promise you, I have no motive other than talking to the most interesting person in this cafe.”

 

Konya was convinced that whoever this stranger was, she was telling the truth about not being a threat. “Adele Konya,” she said, offering her hand.

 

“General!” The surprise in the stranger’s voice seemed genuine enough. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

 

“Don’t call me sir. You’re probably not even in my chain of command.” Not if she was the scientist she claimed to be. The drinks arrived, and she took a sip of her whiskey. “So what’s the Reclamation Service want on Corellia? I thought you people worked on archaeological sites long abandoned, and I don’t think Corellia’s quite that bad.”

 

“That’s true. However, occasionally teams investigate newly captured sites, especially if we believe they contain knowledge relevant to other investigations. My unit’s goal is to study the Green Jedi. We pick through the records at any strongholds in controlled territory, looking for information on any weaponry or fighting styles they have.”

 

“Are they a problem for you?”

 

Valle tapped her fingers against her glass. Konya noticed the nails were bitten and the cuticles bleeding. “It’s a mix of historical curiosity and battle planning. On the one hand, we know how to deal with Jedi. But since this is a specialized offshoot limited to this system, we don’t have sufficient information to determine if they have unconventional tactics, so it makes sense to study them.”

 

“You sound more like a scholar than a grunt,” Konya observed.

 

“You say that as though it’s impossible to be both.”

 

“I find that those who wage war on the front lines don’t often lend time to study other things. The upper ranks are more mixed.”

 

“What about you, General? Do you study war, or other arts?” Valle leaned forward as she spoke.

 

“I pride myself on being well-rounded,” the General allowed.

 

“Tell me about something that makes you well-rounded, then..."

 

\- - -

 

The owner of the tapcafe had come to the table to tell them it was closing. Caught up in their discussions, neither of the women had noticed the lateness of the hour. Now they stood outside the shuttered building, coats on to ward off the chill of the late night. They’d danced around the possibility of attraction all night in a pattern that became routine - Valle offered compliments, Konya ignored them. Occasionally - usually after a quick, heated exchange - she turned the tables and offered one back. The Imperial had no idea what the Corellian was thinking, whether her offer was on the table or not, and so she stood in the cold and the silence, hesitant to go home without a definitive answer.

 

Konya ended the stalemate. She moved into Valle’s space, reaching up to the taller woman’s neck, bringing her head down, and seizing her mouth in a strong kiss. After a moment’s hesitation, the other woman responded eagerly, moving a hand to the smaller woman’s back and bringing her form closer when there was no resistance.

 

When the general stepped back, there was a bit of a flush. “My quarters aren’t much farther than the Imperial barracks,” she stated.

 

“Lead the way then,” Valle answered, content to follow along in the general’s shadow.


End file.
